


Numb

by lacunaxx



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Breaking down, Crying, Depression, Hurt Lance (Voltron), Insecurities, Lance-centric, Langst, Linkin Park - Freeform, Pain, RIP Chester Bennington, Rushed, Sadness, Self-Hatred, Songfic, breaking point, numb, red paladin lance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-07 10:43:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11621898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lacunaxx/pseuds/lacunaxx
Summary: Lance just can't take it anymore.





	Numb

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of the song Numb by Linkin Park. It was kinda rushed, but turned out better than I thought it would. Sorry of it's confusing in some parts.  
> Although I haven't seen Voltron yet, I'm just waiting for Lance to break. I feel really bad for him. 
> 
> Enjoy.

Blue eyes watched through a clear window, sadness seeping through. He was alone, as always. Forever the clown who hides his tears behind a smile. The flirtatious freak who can't get his priorities straight. He thought back to the past, when he first became a Paladin.

_ His thoughts were fogged. His mouth hung open, a mere squeak emitting from his throat. Only envy was able to pulse through him, seeing the  _ perfect  _ little Mullet-head already one-upping him. He was almost green with jealousy, and knew he had only one thing to do. _

_ He had to prove himself. _

No matter how hard he had tried, the other Paladin was always a step, or five, ahead of him. He was forced to hide his feelings behind a smile, laughing away his days among the others. The seventh wheel, he was. Never good enough.

But, only recently he had discovered that he  _ did  _ have a place within the team. He was the sharpshooter. The best damn sharpshooter in the history of sharpshooters, really. Blue, his lion, connected with him perfectly. He  _ finally  _ mattered. He  _ finally  _ had somewhere he could belong, somewhere he could prove himself.

Until now.

The Black Paladin had gone missing. Mullet-head became the leader. He was stripped of his spot as the Blue Paladin. He was forced to become the Red Paladin. Torn away from his connection, of his place in the team. And, quite literally, put in the shoes of the one he had tried to surpass.

He wasn't the sharpshooter anymore. He didn't feel like he was  _ needed  _ anymore. All that he felt was loneliness. It was depressing, stressful, and just utterly terrifying. He didn't matter to any of them! Back to being the seventh wheel with no true meaning of his placement.

No, he didn't want to force himself to be what they wanted. He wanted to just go  _ home.  _ Back to his family, where he had a place among the loving relatives of his. But Voltron needed him. He couldn't leave now. Not when there was a gravely serious threat.

As a tear slid down his smooth, coppery cheek, he stifled a sob. Wanting nothing more than to just stop the numbing pain that he felt, to be  _ himself. _ He was breaking from the inside-out, and it was only becoming worse as each tick passed by.

He could only push the others away, secluding himself into a dark abyss of hatred towards himself. That damn Mullet-head would always be the best. His pale skin, his attitude. Of course, he'd always be favored. He was the best, wasn't he?

A tingling sensation coursed through him, tears still streaming. He'd never belong. Who was he to believe that he actually mattered? All he could possibly be was the shadow of his teammates, especially the new leader.

He was breaking apart, and quickly. But he knew, oh yes, he knew that nobody really cared. All they could, and all they would, worry about was the mission they had set. Who cares if the new Red Paladin was being torn apart by the seams? Crying himself to sleep at night, and that was only if he actually got any sleep?

That was his true meaning. His true reason to be here. He was a replacement, and always would be. It was that way back at the Garrison, and it was that way now.

After so long, he had finally come to terms with his personality. With the way he was. With himself. But, now he was nothing. Absolutely nothing. He held no  _ real  _ ways to be a value to the team.

Even his voice had changed. It was as if he was really  _ becoming _ the one who pulled all his insecurities to the surface. But, what if he had felt the same? With someone as disappointed in him, trying to make him to become someone he's not?

No matter what, he couldn't shake the numb feeling away. It would stay with him, now. It wasn't as if anyone would save him from the torturous cage that was his mind.

He was _stupid._ _Anxious. Flirtatious._

_ A fucking joke. _

He stood, wiping away the tears that stained his cheeks. His eyes were shot, his vision blurry.  _ Training should do, it would take his mind off of the terrors within his head. _

Stumbling along the metallic hallways, footsteps not even close to quiet. Once he reached the desired destination, he paused.  _ Brilliant.  _ The one he had wanted to steer away from at all costs was already there, sweat causing his pale skin to gleam in the light.

He wanted to turn away, to slip into the safety of his room, mulling over the pitiful life of his. But, of course, luck wasn't on his side, as before he was able to take a single step, his name was called. It sounded like a curse upon the other's lips, a stinging pain shooting through his chest. The tingling became worse, and all he wished for was to drop into a fucking wormhole.

Blue eyes brimmed with more tears, but he stayed rooted to the floor. The simulation was shut down, and the tapping of approaching steps sounded. He kept his gaze to the floor, willing away an oncoming attack of anxiety. Teeth tearing at his lip, he awaited a lecture about his latest mistake.

Oh, it definitely came, but in a different way than he expected.

“You're never around anymore. Why aren't you taking care of yourself? You're practically a skeleton,” the raven has said, worry etched across his expression, “You'll need your strength if we're to form Voltron.”

If any hope was left, it was obliterated as he heard the last of the interrogation. More and more tears formed, but he refused to allow them to fall. Of course the worry had been fake. It was always fake. Everything that involved him was a fucking  _ lie. _

The voice spoke again, “I know you're stressed about switching lions. I am, too. But that doesn't mean you can just push us all away!”

“Why not? It's certainly not like any of you care what happens to me. Nobody cares that I'm falling apart, piece by piece. None of you would care if I was killed. All I am is your fucking replacement. All I do is fuck up.” He breathed heavily, but went on. “I'm practically your shadow. All I want to do is just fit in with all of you. I want to he a value to the team. When I was the Blue Paladin, I actually had a fucking meaning. I actually found a way to be a help to all of you. But, now, I'm just a worthless fuck-up who can't even look in the mirror and see himself anymore.

“All I see is _you._ All I see is what _you_ have made me. All I feel is a numbing pain because I can't be myself anymore,” He huffed, looking up as a tear finally fell. “I'm tired of being what you want me to be. I'm tired of being your clone, walking a few steps behind you every time I try to prove that I'm not just a clown. A freak. A flirtatious little asshole who can't even go a day without starting an argument. I can't hide anymore. _I can't_ _take it anymore._ I'm becoming this, this fucking object to be pushed around. No matter what I do, no matter what I say, every single one of you will believe it to be a mistake. and quite frankly, I'm sick of it.”

Before the other could respond, a mixture of emotions distorting his features, his eyes wide, the final thing was said.

“I’m sick of being who you want me to be! All I want to do, and would give my life to achieve it, is to be more like me, and not like you!” His voice was a mere sob, cracking as he tore away his barriers. Crumpling to the floor, he finally broke.


End file.
